Camera Obscura - Ready To Be Heartbroken

I wanted us to change, says Camera Obscura's Tracyanne Campbell. The band is mere weeks away from the release of their third album, 'Let's Get Out Of This Country', and as the title makes clear: Tracyanne had had enough. She takes a big breath. "I was very unhappy in Glasgow and unhappy with myself, and my job, and just really unhappy. And the band didn't seem to be getting anywhere in the UK, and no one seemed to give a damn whether we lived or died." She pauses and you can hear the wry smile curling on her lips. "Well that's a bit dramatic."

But 'Let's Get Out Of This Country' is a dramatic record. While there's no mistaking Camera Obscura's breezy pop instincts, - the trumpet, the organ, the glittering guitar work of Kenny McKeeve, not to mention Tracyanne's dark and wistful vocals, - this is an album of soaring strings, sparkle, and vintage soul. It's different.

"Making the record in Stockholm was life-changing," Tracyanne says with sudden warmth. "We didn't want to go into the same studio, with the same people, and do the same thing, because we thought we would just do a boring record. I was determined to have a producer – to see if we could be a real band for a change."

The band had originally planned to do some recording with songwriter Richard Hawley, but when scheduling conflicts arose they turned to friends for suggestions. It was Steven Pastel who first mentioned Jari Haapalainen's name, the Swedish producer responsible for recent records by Ed Harcourt and The International (Noise) Conspiracy. The recommendation was seconded by The Concretes' Victoria Bergsman, a friend of Tracyanne's. And Haapalainen jumped at the invitation.

For the first time, it wouldn't be a matter of recording in bits and bobs, weekends here and there. The band hunkered down into rehearsals, then flew to Stockholm for a solid two-week session. No mucking about: just playing your heart out with an expert behind the desk. "It's kind of weird when you think about it. Writing songs is such a personal thing, and then you ask this stranger to come in and tell you what to do. But there is no way back. No more non-producer albums for us."

The first single, Lloyd, I'm Ready To Be Heartbroken, is a vivacious summer swoon, as suited to bandstands as to bedrooms. And yet despite its flashy appearance, Tracyanne describes the tribute to Lloyd Cole with typical dryness – as a song from one "nerdy and self-conscious" act to another.

This balancing-act between soulful flair and melancholy tweeness has long made Camera Obscura appealing. Tracyanne speaks with reverence about her personal mix-tapes, Iris Dement and Cat Power mixed in with Style Council and The Knife. "I've still got my tape Walkman but I'm kind of embarrassed walking down the road with it. When the tape needs to be turned over I stick it under my coat because I don't want people thinking I'm a loser."

"We played in Dundee once to about four people and two of them left about half way through. It's kind of depressing." But people love the band, I tell her. There was such reverence in the crowd the last time I saw them – or what of the sold-out North American tours? Affection seeps into Tracyanne's voice. "Our fans are dedicated and faithful. They're not 'one night stand' fans. 'I'm going to love you 'till the dying day.' That sort of fan."

She sighs. "I'm trying to talk myself into being more optimistic." And is it working? "I can't say... well, yeah, maybe...some days."